NCIS: A very cracky Christmas
by OzGeek
Summary: NFA Secret Santa Story for Dewgoddess. Prompt:Christmas Crack!fic with a dash of angst. The director sends the team to the North Pole to get a gift from Santa's workshop. Easier said than done. Main characters: Abby, Jimmy & Ducky. 6 Chapters.
1. Elf Yourself

_This is my 2011 NFA Secret Santa story written for dewgoddess according to her requests and prompt. It is six chapters long and I will publish one every day or so if I can. I will be on holidays during this time and I can't count on internet access. If I can't use the internet, there may be a delay of up to 5 days between updates (it's a short holiday)._

_Much mention is made to Santa Claus folk lore and stories. The references are mainly wikipedia so feel free to look them up and learn more._

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><p><strong>Title<strong>: NCIS: a very cracky Christmas  
><strong>Genre<strong>:Gen, Adventure  
><strong>Characters<strong>: As requested: Everybody! But primary focus on Abby, Ducky and Jimmy.  
><strong>Rating<strong>: FR13  
><strong>Spoilers<strong>: Nothing major – season 4(?)  
><strong>Story Prompt<strong>:  
>Christmas Crack!fic with a dash of angst. The director (it doesn't matter who) sends the team to the North Pole to get a gift from Santa's workshop. Easier said than done...<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 1: Elf yourself<strong>

The squad room was a very dull place to be on Christmas Eve, Tony reflected as he sat at his desk on that very eve. After years of indulging in wild NCIS Christmas parties, Gibbs' team had finally scored the skeleton staff shift. Not Gibbs himself, of course, Tony noted ruefully, he had headed off a week ago to "make some Christmas toys for kids."

Tony tried to muster a smile as the dancing NCIS Christmas elves jiggled their way, thunderbird style, across his screen. Sure it was funny the first time when he'd stuck pictures of himself, McGee, Ziva and Gibbs over the elfin images like green Special Agent bobble heads but now that he had 'elfed' everyone in the building, it was staring to get old.

Jimmy wandered into the squad room, his green scrubs festooned with remnants of the day's autopsy, and settled himself on Gibbs' desk. He too had been left to his own devices while Ducky began his holidays early – the advantages of seniority.

The raven haired Ziva, keen to involve herself in the culture of her adopted country, was merrily humming Christmas carols while methodically de-constructing, cleaning and re-constructing the vast array of weapons laid out on her desk.

McGee stretched and cracked his neck, breaking Tony's reverence and probably a few tendons at the same time. "I hate working Christmas Eve," he noted.

"I used to like it," Tony jumped in, desperate for some distraction from the dancing elves. "But that was back when people actually died at Christmas."

"Those were the days," agreed Jimmy, wistfully.

The elephant in the room shifted uncomfortably but the ugly truth was that ever since the Navy had abolished the rank of Petty Officer and Rock Creek Park had closed its mausoleum-like gates permanently, the number of Navy related deaths in the DC area had plummeted. The city's campaign to transform all the abandoned warehouses into trendy inner city studio apartments hadn't helped either.

The welcome sound of the Director's door opening made them all look upwards. As he descended the stairs towards them at a pace that would make glaciers weep, the four voiced their own personal Christmas wishes.

"Murder?" McGee guessed hopefully.

"Terrorist threat?" Ziva prayed.

"Multi-body massacre?" Jimmy urged.

"Heck, I'd go for petty larceny at this point," said Tony.

Vance remained silent until he had arrived at a point exactly in the middle of the room. He looked pointedly at Jimmy: "It's time."

Jimmy's face broke into a conspiratorial grin. "I'll get Abby," he said running for the elevator, a trail of sinuous human fibres in his wake. "We'll meet you in the car park."

When Jimmy was gone, Vance turned his attention to the rest of the team. "As you know, he began, "NCIS jurisdiction covers many things: criminal investigations, force protection, cross-border drug enforcement, anti-terrorism, counter-terrorism, major procurement fraud, computer crime and counter-intelligence as well as running the master at arms and military working dog programs. Part of this counter-terrorism work includes cargo being transported into the country via what is known colloquially as 'the White Navy' or the 'sleigh ship'."

"Sleigh?" queried Ziva.

"Specifically: Santa's sleigh."

"I'm sorry," said McGee, "I thought you said Santa..."

Vance barely paused. "I did. Think about it: millions of gifts being imported into this country without passing through customs. Santa's workshop is a prime target for terrorists hoping to plant a bomb or even a simple listening device into the homes of our top officials. Everyone with a child is at risk. We have 'agents-a-snow' assigned in the workshop."

"Now that would be a cool job," commented Tony. "No pun intended."

The Director shot him a stern look and continued. "Every year, on Christmas Eve, the NCIS skeleton staff team is entrusted with a unique task: to collect my annual Santa gift direct from the workshop. It's a Thank You from Santa for our help in securing his facility which I treasure all through the year."

"The North Pole!" said McGee. "In Christmas traffic?"

"Don't worry about traffic," said Vance. "Meet Abby and Jimmy in the car park and dress warm. You'll be there in no time."

* * *

><p><em>Author note: the traditional NCIS victim is a Petty Officer found in Rock Creek Park. Abandoned warehouses are the conventional NCIS bad guy lair.<em>


	2. On Mortimer, on Jethro

**Chapter 2: On Jethro, on Mortimer... **

When they arrived in the car park bundled in warm coats, hats and scarves, they found Abby waiting beside her bright red 1931 Ford Coupe hot rod surrounded by a dozen dogs of assorted breeds. She was wearing a blood-red high-necked long sleeved dress, skin tight until the mini-skirt which flared in a fluted design halfway down her thighs. The neckline, arms and skirt were fringed with white fur as was the top of her three inch platform black boots. Around her neck she wore a studded necklace. On closer inspection, the studs were, in fact, small Christmas motif jewels. Her hair was twisted up into two antler-like pony-tails.

"Ready?" Jimmy asked her, still breathless from running. In contrast to Abby, Jimmy had merely thrown a coat over his soiled scrubs.

"Almost," Abby replied. "Jethro is always late."

The three agents exchanged glances but it was Ziva who voiced their thoughts. "Gibbs is coming too?"

"No," said Abby. "He's not the only Jethro in the world."

Sure enough, McGee's large German shepherd came bounding into sight.

"Jethro?" said McGee in surprise.

The dog deviated from his path to give his master a brief lick on the hand then made a beeline for Abby. The moment he sat at her side, Abby gave Jimmy an excited smile. Jimmy, in turn, executed a theatrical flourish with both hands and clicked his fingers.

Instantly, Abby's car transformed into a large red sleigh complete with skis.

"That looks like Santa Sleigh," said Tony uncertainly.

"Yes," said Abby, "it's the real thing."

Tony frowned at Jimmy. "So who are you meant to be?"

"Santa's head elf," said Jimmy obviously. "I'm not wearing this for nothing."

"You're not wearing day-old scrubs dripping with human waste and a hobo coat...for nothing," Tony clarified slowly.

Jimmy paled and exchanged worried glances with Abby. "There's something wrong – that magic should have worked."

Abby chewed on her lower lip. "There's an imbalance in the field," she fretted. "Santa must be in trouble. I'll have to use the magic dust."

Suddenly the air was thick with sparkly particles. By the time it cleared, Jimmy was dressed in a green elf outfit complete with belled hat and shoes. Tony had a sudden urge to make him dance merrily across a screen.

"How come your outfit didn't change, Abs?" asked McGee.

"Oh I wear my work clothes to NCIS all the time at Christmas. Everyone just thinks I'm being quirky."

"So if this is the sleigh," Tony began, "where are the reindeer?"

"Oh that's just a myth we like to keep alive," said Abby. "We really use dog power."

"Abby is the 'keeper of the pack'," Jimmy explained as he helped Abby hitch up the dogs.

"...and the keeper of the stylish sleigh-car," Abby added.

"So, that whole case with Jethro ..." McGee started.

"... was a cover up, " Abby confirmed. "Our little redhead dog trainer was a Deamon trying to take out Santa's dog squad from the inside out. You know NCIS is responsible for the military working dog unit? We train them up then farm them out to the military until we need them for one night a year."

"That's why Abby was so protective of Jethro when he attacked McGee," Jimmy continued. "She knew there was something going on. Like now..."

Abby gave Jimmy a reassuring pat."We got sloppy," she said somewhat savagely. "Deamons are always redheads. Years ago Gibbs used to check out every one we met, just in case, but as the threats came less often, we wound the operation down."

"That and Deamons discovered hair dye," Jimmy added.

"So...no reindeers at all..." asked Tony, sadly. "Not even a Rudolph to guide the sleigh tonight?"

"Oh we have a guide dog," Abby assured him. She gave a sharp whistle and Mortimer's head popped out of the sleigh. "His cover was trainee Guide Dog but, he's the only dog in the world that can sniff out Santa's location from halfway around the planet."

Mortimer leapt gracefully out of sleigh and trotted to take his place at the head of the pack where Jimmy attached his rein. No longer the cute puppy they had first met, Mortimer was clearly on his way to becoming a beautiful dog. When the young Labrador was firmly in place, Abby and Jimmy climbed into the sleigh's driver's seat while the three agents watched from car park.

"What are you waiting for," called Abby, taking up the reins. "We have a Santa to save."


	3. On the trail

**Chapter 3 On the trail **

The red sleigh was a beautiful sight gliding through the cold night sky with its NCIS passengers. At least it would have been a beautiful sight had anyone on the ground been able to see it.

"NORAD is tracking us," Abby called back to the others from the driver's seat over the noise of rushing air, "but they won't report us to the public until we're on the outbound journey."

"How long until we get there?" McGee called back, mentally calculating the distance and estimating their speed.

"About 10 minutes once we hit the portal," Abby replied.

"Portal?"

" Portaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaal": the last word the agents heard before everything went black.

In moments they were skimming low over undulating snow dunes heading towards a vast lit complex on the horizon. Abby slowed the dogs and performed a gentle circular manoeuvre around the enormous establishment.

"Welcome to Santa's workshop," Abby yelled to the agents.

"It's very quiet," said Jimmy anxiously almost to himself.

"Too quiet," Abby confirmed.

She peeled off and landed the sleigh at the door of a large rustic wooden barn located outside the perimeter of the workshop. Once they had arrived, Abby jumped out and opened the enormous barn doors. The dogs pulled the sleigh inside and sat patiently waiting to be let free.

"Good dogs," Abby cooed as she closed the doors behind them. "Are we going to get you some treats? Yes we are."

While Abby lovingly unhitched the dogs, Jimmy led the agents into a cosy office adjacent to the barn. A large mahogany desk dominated the room. The walls had been formed from chunky logs laid one atop the other and these, in turn, were obscured by heavily annotated maps, calendars and banks of pigeon holes stuffed with old paper scrolls. The whole place smelt of pine needles and freshly minted gift wrapping paper.

"Jimmy the Autopsy Elf," Tony rolled the phrase around in his mouth as they walked. "I think I like 'gremlin' better."

"I don't think the kids would react the same way to 'Santa and his workshop full of merry gremlins'," Jimmy pointed out.

"Wait a minute," said Tony. "If you're Santa's head elf, why do you moonlight as an ME in training?" Tony questioned.

"North Pole Elves feel the heat like you wouldn't believe," Jimmy explained. "You try working in freezing North pole conditions wearing nothing but a Tinkerbell costume. You soon acclimatize. Morgues are guaranteed to be cold all year round. Plus, working for NCIS means I get to wear the traditional green as much as I like! You'd be surprised how many people who work in morgues are actually elves."

"Breena the Embalmer?" asked Tony.

"Of course," said Jimmy. "How many humans do you know called Breena? It's a traditional Elvin name."

"Enough of the friendly chit chat," Abby snapped as she walked in with Mortimer hot on her heels. "The sooner we get to Santa, the sooner we can find out what's happening."

Jimmy consulted a wall and selected a scroll which he spread out on the large mahogany desk in front of everyone.

"This is a layout of the workshop," he started. "It is divided into precincts: the old section with the wooden toys, hand-made dolls and, of course, the tie and underwear department, and the new section with the electronic devices, computer game, modern music, movies and such. There are a number of underground entrances to the workshop and they are all linked by a maze of tunnels."

"Do you have a map of the tunnel system?" asked McGee.

Jimmy shuddered involuntarily. "They never made one – security."

"He was stuck down there once," Abby explained patting him on the back. "Never been the same since: claustrophobia. Fortunately we have Mortimer here to lead us to Santa. If he's still in the workshop, we'll find him."

"One question?" asked Ziva. "How to we penetrate the tunnels... we dig? Explosives?"

"We could dig," Abby replied, or we could just use the main entrance. So saying, she marched to a hatch in the floor and prised it open revealing a ladder plummeting to unknown depths. Mortimer sniffed the air and barked excitedly.

"He has Santa's scent," Abby said with a grim smile.

Jimmy grabbed his map. "Let's go."


	4. Timeless Santa

**Chapter 4 Timeless Santa**

Mortimer led the small group through a maze of underground corridors, Jimmy's hat, as it turned out, glowed in the dark, illuminating their path. It seemed hours before they were standing outside an ancient wooden door with a very modern looking scanner mounted on the side. Mortimer sat and pointed with one paw.

Abby turned to the NCIS agents. "Mortimer is never wrong. Santa is just behind that door."

Jimmy nodded approvingly when Tony, McGee and Ziva drew their weapons in anticipation. "Now I'll get us in," he said.

He bent down to the scanner and presented an eye. The scanner flashed once and the door slowly swung open to reveal small, empty control room containing a very bored looking Ducky. Dressed in a long green coat fur-lined coat, he was tied to a chair in the middle of the room with a tight cloth across his mouth.

The three agents rushed in and swept around the room shouting 'clear' for no apparent reason while Jimmy and Abby untied Ducky.

"About time you lot showed up," said Ducky as Jimmy removed the last of his gag.

"We were so worried, Christmas magic was failing" Abby said, "but Mortimer knew exactly where to find you."

Ducky gave Mortimer a friendly pat as the dog leapt up on him. "This, I approve of," he told the dog sternly. "Unlike the time you hunted me down in a cemetery."

"We were worried about you then too," Abby pouted.

"You were nosey," Ducky chastised gently. "But now your help is well and truly needed."

"We came as fast as we could," Jimmy assured him.

"Appreciative as I am of your haste," said Ducky. "I'm afraid it's to no avail: the Awgwas have struck and taken most this year's presents. It'll be a grim delivery run this year, I'm afraid."

"But I thought the Awgwas had gone," said Jimmy. "'Perished' – that was the word."

"Apparently not," said Ducky with more than a hint of regret. "The problem with invisible beings is that it's often difficult to know when you've rid yourself of the whole bunch."

"They are also really difficult to autopsy," Jimmy pointed out.

"Yes, thank you Mr Palmer," said Ducky. "Why don't you go and check through the workshop and survey the damage. I want all my department heads to report as soon as possible."

"Yes Sir," said Jimmy disappearing out a large wooden door.

It was at this point that the NCIS agents decided it was time they were let in on things.

"Ducky," Tony began, "just exactly who are you?"

Ducky sent him a withered look. "Santa Clause, Antony, Saint Nick, Father Christmas, Sinterklaas, Joulupukki; I go by many names."

Tony encircled him taking in his outfit. "Where's the red suit?"

"Oh they are just my stage clothes," said Ducky. "Yes, traditionally I was a lead elf in a green coat." He spread his arms wide to show off his beautiful green outfit. "But ever since a cartoonist began portraying me as a jolly plump figure with a white beard and red suit, my whole image has changed. Now I have to impersonate me just to get the job done."

"You know," Abby added, "Ducky couldn't get a job as a Supermarket Santa."

Ducky chuckled, "they said I wasn't authentic enough."

McGee looked at Ducky incredulously. "You must be hundreds of years old but you don't look a day over ..."

"Seventy," Ducky confirmed. "Yes, there is a whole legend about it. After I started the whole present giving business The Immortals decided to halt my aging using the Mantle of Immortality just before I died in my sixties. It's hanging on the wall over there. Now, no matter how the years roll by, I always look the same age. It seems to have the same effect on Abby and Jimmy though I suspect someone has been tampering with it."

Abby had the good grace to flush.

"That does explain a lot," McGee admitted.

"Who exactly are these Awgwas?" asked Ziva tentatively.

Ducky sighed. "What do they teach you people nowadays? The Awgwas are traditionally evil beings. They are notorious for turning invisible and stealing all my toys."

"Why would they do that?" asked Ziva.

"They thrive on the actions of naughty children and a child angling to get in my good book is rarely misbehaving. So they steal the toys to create the behaviour they seek. They tried this years ago which is why I started sneaking around at night and entering houses through chimneys. Now it's become a 'tradition'."

"... and now they are back," said Ziva.


	5. New Assignments

**Chapter 5: New assignments**

"You know," Tony mused, "this really isn't how I imagined today was going to turn out."

"The day is not yet over, Anthony," Ducky warned. "Unless we can manufacture a considerable number of new toys in a hurry, there will be no Christmas presents for anyone this year – and that includes our beloved Director. Abby, I'll need you to increase the time bubble so we have some chance of getting out of this mess."

Abby saluted. "Yes Sir, Santa boss man."

McGee's ears pricked up. "Time bubble?" he questioned, following Abby to a large consol at the back of the room.

"Slow down there geek boy," Abby warned. "This is a one off application."

"But it's a time bubble."

"Yes, it's a time bubble. How else do you think Santa delivers all those presents in one night? We have a time bubble around the sleigh so that a year in the bubble is like an hour in the outside world."

"Well, it isn't all in one night," McGee pointed out sheepishly. "Some cultures do presents on the eve, some in the morning, some even use the 5th of December..."

Abby shot him a withering look.

"Time bubble," said McGee, "gotcha. But don't you die before you finish the deliveries?"

"You really haven't been paying attention, have you?"

"Well," McGee admitted, "I've experienced a bit of information overload today."

Abby sighed at him then spoke slowly, enunciating clearly as she would to a young child. "Santa was made immortal by The Immortals using the Mantle of Immortality." She paused to consider her statement. "Wow that is really hard to say. I wired the Mantle up to cover the workshop and the sleigh in a sort of time bubble. It holds human and elf age at bay inside the bubble but everything else moves on at bubble time that means we can make toys really fast."

The large wooden door creaked open a crack and Jimmy's green-hatted head peaked through. Tony again fought the urge to dance him across a screen.

"I have them all for you, Sir," Jimmy said to Ducky.

"Very good, Mr Palmer," said Ducky. "Show them in."

The door opened wider and Jimmy entered followed by a line of people and elves dressed in assorted green outfits.

The agents realised they recognised a few faces, some not currently living in the mortal world, but the most surprising face was ...

"Gibbs?" said Ziva.

"Is there a problem David?" asked Gibbs. "I told everyone I was off making wooden toys for Christmas."

"Speaking of which," Ducky cut in, "how badly were you affected."

"Barely touched us," Gibbs reported. "I don't think we're their target market. Kids nowadays are more into electronics than wooden boats and planes."

"Don't under-sell yourself, Jethro," Ducky reprimanded. "We still get a lot of orders for your department. If you can make quota I'll send you back."

Gibbs waved a salute and disappeared out the door.

Ducky addressed the rest of the assembled department heads. "The same goes for all of you – if you can make quota, please return to your departments post haste. I've had Abigail here increase the time bubble which should at least double our time."

When most of his department heads had returned to work, Ducky addressed the small remaining group. "As Jethro alluded," he began, "electronics are going to be our biggest problem. Fortunately, NCIS has sent us some experts to help out."

The three agents shared a glance.

"McGee, I want you to go with Steve and Bill to the iworkshop and help out with the computing – both hardware and software."

"Yes, sir...I mean Ducky...Santa," McGee fumbled. "Um, which is Steve and which is Bill?"

"Steve has always wears the green polo neck," said Ducky. He lowered his voice. "They don't always get on. You might have to split your time between them."

As McGee left, Ducky turned his attention to Tony. "Anthony," he said. "I need you down in DVDs with Walt working on movies. We have wish lists a mile long in that department and you're just the man to fill those orders."

Ducky turned to Abby. "Abigail I want you down in the music department again. They are having trouble coming to grips with this new fangled technology not to mention some of these strange new groups. These blasted Awgwas seem to have launched a concerted effort there, no pun intended, proving that, like their physique, their musical taste is invisible."

Abby opened her mouth to complain then thought better of it as Ducky had moved on to his last NCIS agent.

"Ziva," he started, "in an age of high tech toys, I need you to help out in one of our traditional yet not very PC departments."

"Of course, Ducky."

"Weaponry."

"There are others who ask for weapons for presents?"

"Toy weaponry," Ducky corrected. "Despite all the years of trying to rid the world of violence, toy guns, bows and arrow and even plastic num chucks are still some of my best sellers in the under 12 male market."

"You can count on me," Ziva assured him. "It will be an honour to foster the assassins of the future."

Ducky frowned worriedly, wondering what he might have just done. "I have no doubt."


	6. It's been a hard day's night

**Chapter 6 It's been a hard day's night**

The team worked hard. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months; at last, every order was completed. To the outside world, it was still Christmas Eve such was the power of Abby's time bubble.

As eternal Christmas Eve continued to fall over the North Pole stables, Tony, McGee and Ziva climbed into the back of Santa's sleigh for one last journey.

Jimmy took the driver's seat and Ducky, resplendent in his popularly acceptable red Santa suit, took shotgun with his sack lying at his feet.

Abby finished hitching up the last of the dogs and came to stand at the sleigh to wave them off.

"You're not coming?" McGee asked her.

"I have to take all the dogs home after the run," she explained. "Besides, the workshop always has a party after Santa's gone."

Jimmy pouted. "I never get to go."

"That's because no taxi will drive you home from here," Abby pointed out.

McGee pointed at Ducky's sack and leaned forward, whispering conspiratorially to Abby. "How do they fit them all in?"

Abby whispered back in his ear, "Magic."

"Magic," said McGee sarcastically leaning back with some force, "really."

"Well, I could explain it to you," said Abby, "but then I'd have to shoot you. Your life is already hanging by a thread after the time bubble revelation, don't push it."

McGee swallowed hard and closed his mouth.

"Time to go," called Ducky. "We have a lot of stops to make tonight and a special delivery at NCIS; onwards Mr Palmer."

Palmer gave the reins a shake and the sleigh slid off into the night.

* * *

><p>"I said left over Scandinavia, Mr Palmer."<p>

"I did turn left."

"The other left."

The conversation between Santa Ducky and Elf Jimmy had a familiar ring to the NCIS agent's ears as the laden sleigh made its way through the Christmas Eve sky.

Ducky was a blur as they flew over the houses, delivering presents in what seemed to be his own personal accelerated time. Given what Abby have told them, that might well have been the case. In practically no time at all (though that may have been a perception, time was becoming a very fluid concept) they pulled up outside the NCIS building.

As the NCIS agents climbed out of the sleigh, Ducky drew a small package from his bottomless sack. It was barely one inch wide and high by two inches long. "This," he said handing the festive box to Tony, "is for the Director. Take very good care of it and ... thank him for sending re-enforcements."

Vance was standing in the lobby when the three agents entered the building, feet wide apart, arms crossed. "I trust you understand that everything you have witnessed today must remain a complete secret," he said, sternly.

"Yes, sir," they chorused.

He looked pointedly at McGee. "No matter what Abby may have divulged."

McGee blanched. "Yes sir." Though it did occur to him that had he been fired for such a security breach, the paperwork would make interesting reading.

Tony offered Vance the small package and the Director's features softened. "Not before time," he said, unwrapping the present.

"Sir," McGee reminded him, "Aren't you supposed to wait until..."

Vance's glare silenced him.

Inside the wrapping was a small, plain wooden box which Vance opened immediately. Only then did he pause to take in the view. "It's beautiful," he breathed.

With great care, he reached with his thumb and forefinger, pulled out a slim piece of wood and immediately placed it between his teeth.

As he chewed on his hand-made Gibbs' original toothpick personally delivered by Santa direct from his North Pole workshop with NCIS escort, Vance knew that a Merry Christmas was assured all over the world.

**THE END**


End file.
